


Strange Bedfellows

by treshornybros (IamJohnLocked4life)



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Eventual Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, POV Taako (The Adventure Zone), Sharing a Bed, that's the entire premise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-20 05:09:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13139733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IamJohnLocked4life/pseuds/treshornybros
Summary: It quickly becomes a habit, and then routine. Magnus is oddly good natured about it. But then Magnus is good natured about everything, so maybe it's not that odd. No one else seems to notice.They always sleep back to back.Taako should find that comforting, and he does, at first. It's just like sleeping with Lup.Sort of.





	1. Before

**Author's Note:**

  * For [schwartz1e](https://archiveofourown.org/users/schwartz1e/gifts).



> My secret santa gift fic for [fully-realized-creation](http://fully-realized-creation.tumblr.com/), who said they like fics exploring Lup and Taako’s relationship, ship Taako/Magnus during Stolen Century, and enjoy angst. I hope this hits the mark! Some angst with eventual happy ending.

  

They’re twelve when she dies.

They’d been on their own before, of course. As early as they can remember they’d been passed around from family member to family friend to distant relative and back, but this is different. She braids their hair and teaches them how to cook and kisses them each on the forehead every night when she tucks them in. She sings to them and reads to them and _listens_ to them. They’ve lived with dozens of relatives around the world, but this is first time it feels like a family.

And when she dies, it’s the first time they feel truly alone.

The twin beds are a strange luxury, one they reveled in when they first arrived at their aunt’s, but now the distance feels too far. Lup is curled up in a tight ball, facing away, but Taako can tell silent tears are still streaming down her face. Quietly, he gets out of his bed, and lies down on the sliver of mattress behind her. She doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything or acknowledge his presence in any way, and he’s not sure if she wants him to leave her alone or hold her. It feels like she’s hiding from him, and it hurts, but he has to try. They’re in this together.

“Hey…” he starts, and then stops again, because he has no idea what to say. She sniffles a little, so he figures that’s something. “I, uh… I know it sucks now, but it’s going to be okay.” His voice wavers, belying the lack of confidence in his words. He clears his throat and tries again. “I mean, I’m going to miss her too…” He closes his eyes, a wave of repressed emotion cresting over him as he thinks of her worn, brown hands shaping dough with infinite care, that sparkle in her eyes whenever she told a joke, the faint smell of cinnamon in her hair. A tear leaks out at the corner of his eye. “...a lot.”

The ball next to him sniffles in agreement.

He forges on, unsure where this is leading, how to make it right.

“But people, other people, they come and go. You know this. We know this.” He feels the mattress shift, and opens his watery eyes to see their pair looking back. “You and me, though, we’ll always have each other.” He holds out his hand, and she takes it. “And you're the only one I need, Lulu.”

She nods, grips his hand tighter. They stay like that, hands clasped, foreheads touching, until the suns are high in the purple sky.

 

 

It’s late, later than they should be up the night before the expedition they’ve been preparing their entire fucking lives for, but they’re high off their win, the thrill of the grift still racing through their veins. Lup flops back on their bed and stretches her legs high in the air, flaunting her winnings with a jaunty tapdance heavenward. Taako tosses his new pair of secondhand shoes in the corner and sprawls next to her.

“So this is it. Last night on terra firma.”

“Yuuuup,” Lup drawls, stretching out the vowel and ending with a pop.

“Second thoughts?”

She clicks her heels together.

“Nah, I’m good.” Another clack. “Though I’m def coming back for Grimaldis someday, you can bet on that.”

Taako rolls onto his side, studies his twin’s seemingly unconcerned profile.

“It’s just weird, you know. Leaving our homeworld, or whatever. Like, we’re going to be aliens wherever we go.”

Lup shrugs. “What else is new?”

Taako thinks back on their lives up to this point: years of alienation, a childhood of neglect, no one in recent memory that didn’t fuck them over at the first opportunity.

“You’re right, screw this backwater planet. As long as I have you, I'm home.” He snuggles in next to her, and she kicks off the shoes with wild abandon and loops her legs over his. He pokes her cheek with his nose and she giggles. “I’m serious, Lulu. You're the only home I need.”

She nudges him back. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

 

 

He figures it out well before the conservatory, and ages before the rest of the crew catches on; he is her twin, after all. Still, when she sneaks into their bunk late for the third night in a row, he has to say something.

“Barold?!!” He contorts his face into an exaggerated grimace. “Really Lu, I thought you had better taste than that.”

Lup throws a pillow at him, followed by a long, knowing look.

“Nothing's gonna change, you know that, right Koko?”

“Yeah, of course. It's always the two of us.”

“Always.”

 

Except things do change. She starts staying the whole night. A few here and there at first but he can see where it’s heading, her belongings trickling over to Barry’s quarters bit by bit. She’s leaving him in piecemeal, painfully drawn out stages, a slow inexorable pulling apart.

 

The nights aren't so bad, at first. Quieter, without the soft hum of his twin’s breath in deep sleep, punctuated by the occasional snore. He never thought he'd miss it, but it had been a constant, white noise soothing his overactive brain. Now it's too quiet. Too still. Empty. Mostly it's just colder, without a warm body curled up next to him. They'd kept each other warm their entire lives, the only thing staving off the bitter cold of the harsh elements at times. He curls up alone in the center of the now too large bed, cocooned in blankets but still shivering.

 

 

It starts harmless enough.

Late night card games in Magnus’ bunk that migrate to the bed, Taako eventually nodding off, waking in the middle of the night to find himself carefully tucked into the bed, Magnus fast asleep beside him, back to back, the way he and Lup used to sleep, before she found a new bedtime partner. He should be embarrassed, but mostly he's just grateful. Which is mortifying, really. He tries not to feel pathetic, and fails. He tries to stop finding excuses to spend his nights with Magnus, and fails even harder.

It quickly becomes a habit, and then routine. Magnus is oddly good natured about it. But then Magnus is good natured about everything, so maybe it's not that odd. No one else seems to notice.

They always sleep back to back.

Taako should find that comforting, and he does, at first. It's just like sleeping with Lup.

 

Sort of.

 

Except it's not. It's really, really not. Because Magnus is big—huge, actually—and takes up much more than half the bed, for all that he tries to stay on his side. Not that Taako minds, having him pressed against him, not at all. It's only that he’s so…. masculine. The way he smells, like wood fire and musk. The way he breathes, deep and steady. The way his feet feel when they brush against his, rough and warm and twice as large as Taako’s. It sometimes feels like Magnus could consume him, absorb him into his massive arms during one of his patented bear hugs. Sometimes, Taako thinks he might want to be consumed.

 

 

The (very few) cycles when Barry dies before the hunger arrives, Taako sleeps with Lup curled up next to him again. Most nights, she cries herself to sleep, Taako petting her hair, arms wrapped around her in a way they hadn't slept since they were children. It's painful and it's comforting in equal measure. It's strange, feeling like the bigger one in bed, being the one giving the comfort. He hadn't realized how much he'd gotten used to it the other way round.

 

The (too many) cycles when Magnus dies before the hunger arrives, Taako sleeps alone. Most nights, he thinks about how easy it would be to jump off the Starblaster, or take a tiny sip from the vial of eternal rest he has tucked away in his potion stores, or rush headlong into whatever dangers the current planet they're protecting contains—a death befitting his erstwhile bunkmate.

But then he thinks of Lup. Of all the hardships they'd weathered over the years before their time with the Institute, and all the heartbreak she's encountered since. He hadn't seen her mourn his death the handful of times he's bit it before the year’s end, but he sees the traces of it in her eyes upon regeneration, haunting echoes of loss that can't be brushed away by the reassurance of freshly spawned skin and bone. He's felt it too, more times than he cares to count, and the fleeting promise of seeing each other again is always suspended by a spider’s thread, contingent on greater forces often beyond his control. Grief and anxiety plague him during the Lupless years; he can't stomach the thought of bringing her unnecessary heartache in turn.

So he pushes down this other, newer grief, the fresh emptiness he feels alone in his bed, and takes a sleeping draught for the fifty-seventh night in a row.

 

 

They have the best day together, the very best day. It's perfect. But the apprehension that was churning away the whole while under the static of his racing mind drops into icy fear when he hears that word. _Lich_. His sister, his sole companion for most of his life, his other half, is going to cleave herself from this life, from him, irrevocably and forever, potentially damning herself to eternal madness.

He laughs it away as panic trickles down his spine, and hopes she doesn't notice.

That night he lies in bed with Magnus, back-to-back as always, and tries to calm the tiny tremors still racing through his limbs. He's considering casting stone skin just to get it to fucking _stop_ when a large hand gently wraps around his shoulder.

“Taako? You okay?”

Fuck. Get it together.

“Totes homie, just a little cold.”

The mattress buckles and sways, and Taako is almost jostled out of the bunk, but then Magnus is holding him, and everything stops. The tremors, Taako’s breath, the linear progression of time. All of it.

Magnus is _holding him_ , slowly running his massive palm up and down Taako’s arm, legs slotting in snug behind Taako’s.

“Better?”

His breath gusts hot against the nape of Taako’s neck, sending warmth down his back, chasing away the chill that had gripped him all night.

“Yeah,” he manages, and if it's higher than normal and broken into a few new syllables, Magnus doesn't comment on it. He just snuggles in tighter and sighs in simple contentment, and falls into an easy, uncomplicated slumber.

Taako lies awake for half the night, though his thoughts are no longer of Lup.

 

 

It all goes fine, for the most part. Save for the swooping, nauseating dread when her body goes limp, and the spike of panic when the spectral form that was once his sister is shot through with violent red electricity, spasming and flailing without any semblance of control. Other than the momentary arrest of his own heart as he stands there, utterly helpless, unable to regulate his own breath, let alone whatever horrors are unfolding in front of him. Besides the sheer terror of losing his only tether to this world, or plane, or whatever the hell this finite existence he’s confined to is, of having the one constant in his life ripped from his soul in flashes of fiery crimson light, right before his eyes.

Otherwise, it all goes fine. Just as planned. They coalesce into their spirit forms, Lup dabbing just to make Taako laugh through the tears, and then return to their bodies, like nothing happened. Like they didn’t just fundamentally change the structure of their souls.

Like she hasn’t left Taako forever.

 

That night, he doesn’t make an excuse.

He strides into Magnus’ quarters like he owns the place, points a long, slender finger at his broad chest, and demands, “Bed. Now.”

With a haste Taako was not expecting, Magnus scrambles into his bed, a clumsy mess of oversized limbs, and scooches over as far as he can, pulling back the covers to let Taako in.

 _He wants this_ , Taako realizes, dumbly and for the first time. And right on the heels of that thought: _I could have this_.

 _I could have him_.

It’s easy to crawl in next to him and drape an arm around his neck.

It’s easy to stroke a thumb over his cheek, nails rasping through the thick scruff of his beard.

It’s easy to quiet the nagging uncertainty, the small voice in the back of his head that asks, _Is this for him, or because of her?_

 

It’s easy to let himself have this, to take this, when she had left him with nothing.

 

  


	2. Interlude

 

For ten years, Taako barely sleeps.

He tells himself this is how it’s always been, the way of a life on the road. Part of that rings hollow, but he figures the vague feeling of unease is something everyone feels, most of the time. It’s a cruel world, in his experience, so it’s probably natural. Hazard of being alive.

Sure, there’s that odd lingering nostalgia when he tries to think on it too hard, a faint sense of having had restful nights at some point in his life, but the memories are hazy, like dim light trying to penetrate a murky pond. Considering what little he can remember of his childhood, he decides it’s for the best. No need to dredge up the past.

 

His persistent insomnia offers the silver lining of time—lots and lots of time—and paired with an obsessive, whirring, too-full brain, he transmutes his long, lonely nights into marathons of devoted study and culinary experimentation. He hones his craft, with the single-minded focus of someone who has found the one thing that will stave off madness, and knows it. He clings to it with every bit of determination he can muster, aware that he’s a hairsbreadth from careening off the rails entirely.

He passes out from exhaustion once or twice a week, never for more than a few hours at a time. Those blank, dreamless blips of unconsciousness are a blessed reprieve from the relentless burden of being. Sometimes, not often, but here and there, he dozes, short catnaps usually caught in the late afternoon, seduced into rest by a warm beam of sunlight. These lapses in wakefulness are fitful affairs, punctuated by nebulous nightmares without form or coherence, just a panicked air of being hunted. He invariably wakes with start, heart pounding, stomach knotted with dread, and a deep, haunting emptiness.

 

His dedication eventually pays off. He becomes a celebrity, of a sort. He innovates and teaches and performs and provides. His mania at last has an outlet: an adoring public. A greater purpose to serve.

Until he loses that too.

Then the nights and days really start to blur together. He’s a walking corpse by the time he meets Magnus and Merle, with nothing left to lose. Adventuring? Why the hell not. It’s not like he’s doing much living anyway, these days.

 

 

Being mostly-dead is almost like being asleep.

Quiet.

Numb.

Dark.

And when he wakes on the hard rock floor of Wave Echo Cave, he’s left with half-remembered wisps that almost feel like dreams, Magnus’ disembodied words still floating through his head: _“Now, this may be a little cheesy, but I can’t let you go.”_ He’s not sure if they’re imagined or real, but when he opens his eyes to meet Magnus’, wide-eyed with concern, he suspects the latter. In his addled state, his brain snags, puzzles over the word ‘cheesy’ for a moment or two.

Later, much later, in his new bunk at the Bureau, fruitlessly trying to sleep, his mind turns over those other, more troubling words.

_I can’t let you go._

There had been worry in Magnus’ voice, and something else. Genuine caring.

Why would anyone care what happens to him?

 

 

When they notice, the lie comes easily: elves don’t need to sleep. Well, maybe a lie. It could be true; he can’t really say for sure either way. In his case, it’s close enough to the truth.

He lies awake at night, listening to Magnus’ gentle snores below him. It’s familiar. Not too familiar, as he can’t recall ever sleeping in such close quarters with another person, but also not too not-familiar. It reminds him of something, on the tip of his brain, and he spends most nights trying to feel it out, probing the edges of his awareness. It’s maddening, and strangely soothing.

Then there’s the pull.

He’s not sure when it started, but he suspects it was sometime after the cave but before the solstice eclipse. Although it might as well be a celestial shift, for all the disturbance it entails. A reversal of poles. A gravitational pull.

He feels it, lying above Magnus in their bunk beds. It starts as a gentle tug in his toes, a restlessness that wriggles up his legs, making him toss and turn. He feels Magnus’ presence like a physical force, a massive planet whose orbit he’s drifted into and now can’t escape. He’s not sure that he wants to, and that’s half the problem. He’s always been on his own. This pull, this… _needing_ to be close to someone. It’s terrifying. It’s dangerous.

It’s completely ridiculous too, because Magnus wouldn’t, couldn’t, ever reciprocate. Not in the way Taako’s twitching fingers yearn for. Magnus is straight, and head-over-heels in love with the ghost of his dead wife. And even if all that weren’t true, Taako still wouldn’t have a chance in hell with him. Magnus is kind, and charming, and even clever at times, in his own way. He’s a skilled craftsman and a fierce warrior, and above all else, **good** , something that Taako will never be. Oh, and to top it off, he is fucking gorgeous. The complete package.

Sure, Taako can pull off a runway look, and knows his way around a wand, but he’d be kidding himself if he entertained the idea of landing a catch like Magnus for more than a hot minute.

That doesn’t stop him from fantasizing about what it would be like to slip down into Magnus’ bunk, drape himself over that solid, muscular frame, and just… rest.

 

 


	3. After

 

When the tidal wave subsides, leaving Taako panting, gasping, keeled over from the force of more than a hundred years of memories crashing into his consciousness, one thought floats to surface, coalesces: Lup.

His blood sings, thrums, his heart beating faster, pounding out a refrain: Lup, Lup, Lup.

A lifetime of love, laughter, companionship, rushes through his veins, quickly chased by the icy remembrance of her loss. His skin feels tight and his eyelashes damp.

He points the Umbra Staff at Lucretia and begins to count.

 

 

The explosion is deafening.

The sonic boom leaves his ears ringing, and the smoke makes his eyes water, and when the haze begins to take form, he has to scrub away the tears to make sure he’s not seeing a figment of what he so desperately wants it to be. But no, it’s not his imagination. It’s her.

He feels his heart swell, his cells vibrate, as a piece of his soul he hadn’t known was missing slots back into place. They’ve been separated by long, lonely years and a vast ocean of consciousness, but now, at last, they’re reunited.

Of course her first fucking words are, “You’re dating the Grim Reaper?!!”

He registers the shock in her voice, and the hidden implication, the question behind the question. Her gaze flits over to Magnus in obvious bait. Taako doesn't turn his head to follow her pointed look, but he can feel Magnus’ presence behind him, knows he’s watching. He deflects with a joke; he’s not having this discussion right now. Preferably never.

Luckily, Lup is soon quickly distracted by her reunion with Barry, and then there’s the whole end of the world thing to take care of, which pretty well distracts them all for the rest of the night.

 

 

Elves actually do need sleep, it turns out, but liches don't.

Neither do reapers.

Kravitz offers to stay the night, twice that week, but Taako finds he can't fully relax, knowing that Kravitz is lying there, awake, just thinking, or maybe projecting his consciousness to monitor the astral plane. It's nice, having someone to cuddle with, but it's not restful. They end up talking, until Kravitz inevitably gets summoned by the Raven Queen, leaving Taako with a kiss and a cold spot in the bed.

He knows it’s not fair to make comparisons, but he can't help remembering how different his nights used to be. How it felt to sleep next to a warm body all night, to actually _sleep_ , and wake up refreshed. Years worth of memories. How could he not think of them? Linger on them?

Years where Magnus and Taako shared a bed and slept deeply, and some nights enthusiastically did not sleep at all. Not only is Magnus not-super-duper-straight, he’s also somehow, unbelievably, into Taako.

Or, he had been.

Even worse, Taako sometimes lingers on the recent years. Nights spent separated by thin mattress and planks, listening to Magnus sleep. Wanting desperately to touch him, but knowing he never could.

So many missed opportunities.

He knows he shouldn't, should leave well enough alone, but his brain can't stop picking away at it, recreating those nights over and over, tormenting him.

 

 

Lup takes one look at Taako, and forces him into a chair.

“When did you last sleep?”

Taako blinks up at her slowly.

“When did we defeat The Hunger?”

“Last Tuesday. Are you feeling okay?”

“Fine, I'm fine.” He waves her away, aiming for nonchalance and missing by a mile. “Last Tuesday, then. I mos def conked out after that battle.”

“Taako… that's over a week ago.”

He shrugs and looks away.

“You can't do this to yourself. It's not healthy.”

“Maybe I should become a lich like you. Then I wouldn't need to sleep.”

Lup grabs his face with bony hands, as best she can, her spectral form cool to the touch like Kravitz. “Don't you even joke about that,” and her voice is deadly serious.

“What, you're allowed to con your way to immortality but it's off-limits for me?”

“You're dating Ghost Rider, you've already got an in on that front. But no, you are not cut out to be a lich.” He tries to twitch away from her, but her ethereal touch persists. “I needed my very best and brightest memories fresh, completely intact, to avoid insanity. I needed a tether. I needed _you_ , Taako.”

Needed. Past tense.

“And right now, you're barely fit to dress yourself, let alone perform the most powerful, soul-rending necromancy known to exist.” She strokes cool fingers through his hair. “More importantly, what would tether you?”

Taako closes his eyes. She doesn't mean to be cruel, but it still hurts. His mind is a mess, a jumbled mishmash of information and raw emotion.

He thinks of Kravitz, who he loves, and who loves him in return, but it's still so new. They're just learning the edges of one another, dipping their toes into each other's lives. They've had some good times together, but nothing so momentous, nothing so crystalline and pure that he could cling to it when his entire being was coming undone. Maybe someday, but not yet.

And as much as he wishes that his sister could be for him what he had been for her, he knows she can't. There's too much pain there, hurts new and old, things too fresh to process, let alone forgive. Not that he blames Lup for leaving him; he's happy to place all that on Lucretia. But still. It wasn't really the first time she'd left him.

He tries not to think about Magnus.

“What about Mango?” she asks, reading his mind as easily as ever.

“What about him.”

“He was good for you. Steadying. What happened?”

A decades-long memory wipe happened. Glamour Springs happened. Julia happened. So much had happened while his sister had been locked up in the Umbra Staff that he doesn't know where to start.

“Nothing happened.”

“I know you were separated; we all were. But you found each other again. That's gotta mean something.”

He scoffs. “Found Merle too, does that mean I'm also destined to be with him?”

She tips her hooded head, considering. “Perhaps. But you know what I mean. You're different with him. Calmer. Kinder.” She cups his cheek. “Better rested.”

He’d never been sure if she knew about their sleeping arrangement, those last few decades on the Starblaster. She never said anything, none of the crew did. But of course she knew. He wonders, detachedly, if she noticed the shift, after that fateful cycle when she ripped his heart in two, when he started to do more than just share Magnus’ bed.

“Yeah, well, not a whole lot I can do about that now. Sorry I'm not the calm, kind brother you want me to be.”

It's her turn to flinch back, as if slapped, and Taako feels a sharp slice of vindictive pride, quickly followed by swooping guilt and regret.

“That's not what I meant and you know it.” She sounds more disappointed than angry.

He hangs his head. “It's just… it's not like that anymore, with Mags.”

“Maybe not. But it could be.”

“No, it couldn't.”

She sighs. “Have you asked him?”

“Don't take this the wrong way, Lu, but you've been a fucking umbrella for the last oh, _dozen_ years, give or take. A lot of shit has happened.”

“Sure, I get that. But Taako, I've seen the way he looks at you.”

“Yeah, well, I've moved on. Clearly.” _Just like he did_.

Lup’s thumbs trace the dark rings under his eyes. “Clearly.”

“I'm with Kravitz now, okay? And we're very happy.”

She shakes her head.

“I'm just worried about you, Koko.”

“I'm fine.”

 

 

Magnus knocks on his door three nights later.

He's wearing his pajamas and a sheepish look on his face. Taako narrows his eyes.

“Lup sent you.”

Magnus shrugs, looks down at his slipper-clad feet.

“She said, uh, you might be having some trouble sleeping, and suggested, kind of, uh, forcefully, that this might… help?” His voice wavers uncertainly, and his face is so unbearably earnest that Taako thinks he might puke. That, or kiss him right here in front of his quarters for all of the Bureau to see.

He does neither, opting instead to step aside and wave him in with a roll of his eyes. “If we're gonna have an awkward convo, might as well do it inside.”

Magnus shuffles in, and Taako takes a second to close the door and collect his thoughts. He turns back to Magnus with his arms crossed, and leans against the door jamb.

“Okay, start talking.”

“I…” Magnus spreads his hands wide. “I just want to help.”

“Why?”

Magnus looks confused. “Because, uh, that's what I do? It's kinda my whole thing.”

“Look, Maggie, I don't want your pity or your charity.”

“It's not like that—and you know I hate it when you call me Maggie.”

Taako grins, glinting and feral.

“Fine, Magnanimous. Tell me what it _is_ like. Tell me how selfless you are, dropping by to offer yourself up, all so poor widdle Taako can get some shuteye.”

“No, it's not, I—” He takes a step toward him, brown eyes pleading. “Taako, I miss you.”

Taako takes a closer look at him, noticing for the first time the bags under Magnus’ eyes, the fine lines at their corners. It occurs to him that he wasn't the only one to have his memories blasted back into his brain like a fireball, searing each neuron with forgotten details of a life lost. Maybe Magnus is having trouble clearing his mind at night too.

“So, what. I'm supposed to just forget about Kravitz, and invite you into my bed?”

Magnus’ warm, tired eyes go wide with horror. “What? No! I wouldn't—this isn't—I'd never—”

“Fuck me again? Yeah, I'm getting the picture. Loud and clear, homie.”

“No! That's not what I meant. I would, I mean, I wouldn't not want to, if you wanted to, but not if you didn't want to, of course.”

“What?”

“Aurrrgh, you're getting me all mixed up.”

“You and me both, big guy.”

Magnus tugs at his hair, leaving it sticking up crazily in a way that Taako absolutely does not find adorable.

“What I meant to say, was, I'd never invite myself into your bed without your _and_ Kravitz’s permission.”

“Um… okay…?”

“Look, Lup isn't the only one who talked to me. About you.”

“Oh great, is the entire Bureau having private conferences, brainstorming what to do about Taako? So nice to feel included.”

“Will you just shut up for one second and listen? Kravitz came to see me. Wanted to talk about you. About us. About all of us. He—well, everyone knows what we did those hundred years, or knows what Lucretia wrote down about it, and, uh, I guess he figured out what we were, to each other, back then. Actually, I think Lucretia knew too, and obviously Lup, and probably also Barry, and maybe Cap’nport, he was always pretty observant. I dunno about Merle. Uh, where was I? Right, Kravitz. Well, he came over and we had a long talk—he's a really nice guy, once you get past the whole I've-got-a-bounty-on-your-soul thing, I can see why you like him—anyway, he said he could, uh, see the bonds of our love or something? Something astrally, I didn't really follow, but he said that he'd never want to come between us, and then I said I'd never want to come between you, and then he said between us both, we could maybe… make you happy? Because that's what we both want, really.”

He finally stops talking and takes a huge gulp of air, while Taako wracks his brains, trying to recall if Magnus has ever said so many words to him in one go. Then he catches up to what the words mean, and starts to sway. Magnus catches him with one meaty forearm before he can collapse on the floor, and in a surprisingly quick maneuver, sweeps him up in both arms.

“I think it’s past your bedtime.”

Taako makes a face, trying not to let the fluttering of his heart show.

“What, and you’re going to carry me like some sort of swooning princess?”

“Apparently,” Magnus chuckles, and heads for the bedroom, Taako half-heartedly slapping his arms the whole way.

As soon as he lays Taako on the bed with infinite care, he steps back, a little awkwardly.

“I meant what I said, earlier. I’d never invite myself into your bed without your and Kravitz’s permission. But, uh, the offer stands.”

Taako pulls back the covers.  

“Get in here, you big dummy.”

Relief washes over Magnus’ features, and he slowly, hesitantly, crawls in next to Taako. For a breathless minute they lie side-by-side, not touching, just looking, scanning each other’s faces, assessing. Then Magnus reaches out, places a hand on Taako’s shoulder, like he did so many, many years ago.

“Is this okay?”

But Taako’s already melting into the touch, his muscles relaxing under the warmth of that familiar hand. He wriggles in closer, wraps an arm around Magnus’ waist, breathes in his scent.

“Yeah, Maggie, it’s extremely okay.”

“I hate it when you call me that,” he grumbles into Taako’s hair, but as ever, it falls on deaf ears. Taako’s already fast asleep.

 

 

“Lookin’ good, bro!”

“Thanks, Lulu. Wish I could say the same about you.”

“Hey, watch it! Barry says the new bod will be ready in a few months. In the meantime, you’re gonna have to put up with all this fabulousness. Haven’t you heard? Skulls are in this season.”

“Yeah, but it looks better on Krav. Now there’s a spectre with style!”

“I should fireball your ass for that! But seriously, Koko, I mean it. You’ve got a glow about you. You look… well-rested.”

“Yeah, about that. It might’ve kind of sorta worked out alright this time, but if you _ever_ interfere with my personal affairs again, I swear to Istus, I’ll zap your fresh new bod and Barold will have to grow you another, and that’s gotta put a damper on your lovelife for a while. I mean, how would that even work?”

“Oh don’t worry, we’ve figured it out. It’s kinda hot, actually. You see, first I cast flaming touch, and then he—”

“NOPE! Nope nope nope-nope-nope! Nevermind, on second thought, I really, _really_ don’t want to know.”

“You see, Taako, when a lich loves another lich, very much, then—”

“I CAST SILENCE!”

“That’s a cleric spell, you ding-dong.”

“LA-LA-LA-LA-LA, I CAN’T HEAR YOU!”

 

 

Reapers don’t need to sleep, but sometimes, Kravitz joins them.

The first time, Taako’s worried it’s going to be weird, but Magnus just scoots closer to the wall and pulls Taako to the middle of the bed, and Kravitz settles in on his other side. Taako laces his fingers with Kravitz’s, presses a kiss to the back of his cold hand, then breathes a few puffs of hot air against his skin.

“Are you… are you really all right with this?” He’s not sure why he keeps checking, except it feels like he’s doing something wrong, like he shouldn’t be allowed to have this.

“Taako. Please. Believe me when I say that I am one hundred percent on board with this arrangement.” Kravitz strokes his thumb over Taako’s in small, reassuring circles. “Do you remember what I said to you, on the Day of Story and Song, after you rescued me from the astral plane?”

“Uh, that it takes a lotta work to look so good? Don’t I know it, my man.”

“No, you idiot.” He squeezes Taako’s hand. “I said I love you, and that everyone, everywhere, is going to love you, after hearing your story. The truth is, I’m deeply honored, and so incredibly grateful, that out of the countless people across all the planes of reality who love you, I’m one of the lucky few that you love in return.”

Magnus nods emphatically. “Yeah, what he said.”

Taako turns to him now, brows furrowed.

“But, what about Julia?”

A fond, melancholy smile tugs at Magnus’ lips.

“What about Julia?”

“Well, you know… I thought you loved her. Like, forever.”

“I do. And I’ll never stop loving her. But at the same time, I never stopped loving you, Taako. I just forgot, for a while, and that kills me, but it means I also got the chance to love her. I don’t love her any less, just because I love you.”

Taako looks between the two men in his bed, and thinks he understands.

He used to think there could only be one other person, to love, to share a life with. His other half. He’s starting to see that love isn’t finite, though. It isn’t something reserved for a sole recipient, set aside on a shelf in their absence. It’s an endlessly replenishing resource, like infinite spell slots, and the more people he loves, the more love he has to give.

He flips over onto his side, prodding Magnus to curl up behind him and arranging Kravitz in his arms. He’s enveloped by Magnus’ warmth, which in turn he passes to Kravitz, who sighs and snuggles in closer to Taako. And somehow, unlikely as it may be, it works.

Somehow, along the way, he found not one but two partners to share his bed, and many more companions to share his life. The lonely elf who thought he had no one, needed no one, is completely surrounded with love.

And, miracle of miracles, he easily falls into sweet, peaceful sleep.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Candlenights to you all, and to all, a very Happy New Year!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed my first TAZ fic! Please say hi to me on [tumblr](http://treshornybros.tumblr.com/) ~ I love to chat!


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